Vanishing Grace
by Rage-Dayie-Watson
Summary: With no one else to turn to, Lucifer seeks out the Winchester's help, revealing to them that he's lost his grace, and somebody's got his mojo, and they can't be up to any good.
1. Bleeding and Wounded

_"_ _I need your help, Dean… And Sam's, too."_

 _"_ _Why would we help you, Lucifer?"_

 _"_ _Because, regrettably, I'm on your team, now."_

"You call _that_ a throw? A friggin' grandma could throw better than that," the older Winchester growled out in mild irritation as he soaked up spilled beer in the bunker's kitchen with a hand towel, trying his best to avoid the broken glass bits here and there. His green eyes remained trained on the ground, not bothering to glance up at his brother, who rolled his own lighter green eyes.

"It's not that I can't throw: it's that _you_ can't _catch_ ," Sam muttered as he went to go find a broom to help clean up.

"Do you boys always bicker like this? How haven't you… I don't know… killed each other, yet?" The sound of a familiar (and not in a good way, familiar) voice startled both boys.

Dean, scrambled to his feet, managing to cut his right hand on a large shard of glass as he grabbed the half-broken beer bottle to defend himself. Not that it would actually do any good when it came down to their intruder.

Sam scrambled out of the room, intending to look for a better weapon to defend the pair with, leaving Dean and the intruder alone, for now.

"Lucifer…" The name slipped past Dean's lips with both fear and anger as he carefully watched the archangel's movements.

But, with a better look at him, Dean realized that even if Lucifer wanted to hurt them, he couldn't. Not in his state. Lucifer was leaning against the doorway, covered in blood. His own blood. Lucifer could bleed? Scratches littered visible skin, and his clothes were ripped in various places. He had a black eye forming, and his lip had a gash in it. There was a particularly large cut on his neck- no, more like a gash. A wound that deep would kill a human easily. His usually blonde hair was matted with blood, and he kept one of his blue eyes closed (the one that looked to be forming a black eye). He looked like Hell.

Dean's thoughts on how threatening Lucifer was in this state were only confirmed as Lucifer spoke: "I'm not here to… h-hurt you, Dean… not Sam, either." Lucifer's words were labored as if he was struggling to get them out.

Despite the Devil's state, Dean remained cautious, keeping the broken bottle up, just in case he really had to use it in a fight. "Then why are you here?"

"I… I…" He fumbled over his words as if he was unable to find the right reply. But before he could respond, Lucifer suddenly collapsed, hitting the floor with an ungraceful thud. He made no move to catch himself; he was out cold. For any other creature, it could be blamed on blood loss, but this was Lucifer. It was impossible to know with him.

Dean's first thought was to figure out how to kill him while he was weak and unable to fight back, but, with a little more thought, it became obvious that something big had gone down. Something that could hurt _Lucifer_. Had Lucifer come to warn them? He couldn't be sure until Lucifer returned to the waking world. It was terrifying to think about. Even more so when Dean remembered the fact that angels didn't need to sleep.

Sam returned with an angel blade in hand, but he only became confused when he saw Lucifer's practically unmoving form on the floor. Only the shallow breaths he drew in and out hinted at the fact that the archangel was even still alive. "What happened?"

"I… I don't know. He was tryin' to tell me something, and he just kinda… fell."

"Is that blood? _His_ blood?"

"I think so… I- I don't know, man- how would I know?"

"Well, I thought maybe you cut him or something-"

"No, no, he just showed up lookin' like that!"

"Well, um… what, uh… should- should we do?" Same set the angel blade down on the counter, seeing as it wasn't needed at the moment, going over to look at the downed angel.

"I… I don't know... should… should we, uh… kill him? Or…?" Dean threw that option out for debate, unsure of what else to do.

"No, no, Dean, it doesn't make any sense. Why would Lucifer come _here_? He knows that you would kill him on sight. I mean, for how weak he is right now, it wouldn't be difficult… and Lucifer is smart. He wouldn't come here just to sign his own death warrant."

Sam's logic made sense. After all, Dean was thinking similarly. "So, he came here knowing full well that we wouldn't kill him?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, let's, at least, lock him up. Can't be _too_ careful, you know." Dean finally set down his broken bottle, going over to help Sam move Lucifer into the dungeon of the bunker, where he would be held until further notice.

Several hours passed before the archangel came to. When he did finally open his blue eyes, letting out a small groan, as he was unused to sleep, he found himself in chains. A shackle around his neck, a chain connecting his wrists together, and chains keeping him tied to the uncomfortable chair he was kept in. He couldn't see much for a moment, as the dungeon was dark. His eyes soon adjusted, however, and he could make out Dean's figure in the corner, watching him.

"Ooh, Dean~ You look like you're gonna eat me alive~" Lucifer's voice cracked under exhaustion, and it remained low, although casual and playful, despite the situation. He adjusted himself as much as he could so that he could feel more comfortable in his new prison. The chains jingled with his movement, reminding him that they were there. He glanced at his wrists, seeing the chains, and the one that led up to his neck, then he moved his gaze to Dean with a smug smile. "Dean, you kinky bastard."

"Shut up." Dean already had more than enough of Lucifer's shenanigans, already wanting this encounter to be over. But, little did he know, it was far from.

Lucifer, however, did actually go silent for awhile. Maybe he was in pain. Maybe he was still recovering from his little nap.

The blood had dried on him by now, outlining some of the wounds that had previously been hidden underneath the thick layer of blood. His healing wasn't working. They hadn't changed in the slightest since he'd gotten them. If he moved too much, it was likely he'd reopen some of them (he had actually reopened a few when he fell, but he'd already been covered in blood at that point, and it was difficult to tell he was still bleeding.)

After a few minutes, Lucifer spoke up once more. "Where's Sammy? I imagine he's going to be much more reasonable than you. Or have you banned him from seeing me? Still paranoid that I'm after him?"

"He's busy. Why are you here?" Dean's tone was incredibly serious, whereas Lucifer's remained casual… however, still tired.

"No beating around the bush with you, huh?" It was clear that Lucifer wanted to speak to Sam, and only Sam, preferably, but Dean knew that Lucifer wasn't the one in charge right now. For the moment being, Dean was in control, and he asserted said control.

"I'll ask you one more time before I get a damn angel blade and stab you through the friggin' heart, got it? Why are you here?"

Lucifer sighed, mildly annoyed that he wasn't going to get his way – and he knew it – this time, going silent for a few moments and averting his gaze. He was ashamed for whatever reason, that much was clear to Dean. And then it became obvious once the Devil spoke: "I need your help, Dean… And Sam's, too."

"Why would we help you, Lucifer?"

"Because, regrettably, I'm on your team, now."

Dean scoffed, not believing a damn word that was coming out of the angel's mouth.

"Of course you don't believe me…" Another sigh escaped Lucifer's lips as he avoided making eye contact. This was really uncomfortable for him. He definitely preferred to speak to Sam. "Dean, please…"

He was practically begging, but Dean was still uncertain. He didn't reply, watching Lucifer carefully. What was his play? Was he trying to trick Sam into saying 'yes' to him? No, that wouldn't make sense, since Nick was now Lucifer's permanent vessel. Maybe he was trying to make a fool out of the pair? Maybe he was trying to catch them off-guard and kill them?

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucifer's voice. "You cut your hand earlier… when I first got here…?"

Dean nodded just slightly, skeptical and unsure of what was going to happen next. He held his injured hand with his uninjured one, as Lucifer had reminded him of the stinging sensation he still felt in the palm of his hand. It was a pretty deep cut, but nothing that wouldn't heal with time.

Lucifer then held one of his hands out to Dean, beckoning him to come closer to him, the chains jingling and interrupting the heavy silence that rested between the pair.

Dean's green eyes studied Lucifer, looking for any evil intent. He didn't trust him. Not enough to come any closer than he already was. "No way in hell-"

Lucifer interrupted his refusal: "Thirty seconds- no… no, ten. Ten seconds of trust. That's all I'm asking for. And if you still decide you don't believe me…" His blue eyes pierced into Dean's green ones as he quoted Dean, "then 'get a damn angel blade and stab me through the heart.'"

Ten seconds? That was a lot of time for Lucifer. Too much, Dean decided. "Five."

"Fine," Lucifer impatiently agreed, "get over here."

Dean hesitantly went over to Lucifer, who took his injured hand in both of his own. Dean braced himself for pain, as he expected Lucifer to use his injury against him, but he only felt a small sting, and then a tingling sensation.

Startled, the older Winchester quickly jerked his hand away from the archangel, fear momentarily flashing in his eyes. He looked down at his hand – down at the cut – but his injury was no longer there; Lucifer had healed him.

His words were laced with an underlying tone of frustration, as he just couldn't understand why Lucifer was doing this, but confusion was the primary emotion: "I don't understand…"

"Then let me spell it out for you: I just used _the last of my grace_ to heal _you_. I could have used it to escape. Hell, I could have used it to fix _this_ , Dad knows I need it." Lucifer gestured to himself with his last statement, then tapped the gash on his lip, flinching at the sudden sting he felt, as he was unused to the pain. "But no. I used it on you, Dean."

"Why? And what do you mean by 'the last of your grace'?" Dean had several questions running through his head, but he focused on those two, for now.

"Why? Really, Dean? Do you have to ask?" Lucifer rolled his eyes and answered, "to show you that you can trust me! I need your help, for Dad's sake! _Please!_ " He seemed irritated, but he quickly calmed himself down, deciding it would be against his best interests to lose his temper at the moment.

Dean noted just how desperate Lucifer sounded. He was serious about all this… and, right now, Dean was honestly inclined to believe him.

"And your grace?" Dean asked, still wondering what he meant by that.

"Well, I…" Lucifer didn't want to say it. He really was ashamed… disgusted, even. He tugged at the chains that held him, which made Dean tense, as he knew Lucifer was fully capable of just breaking them. He readied himself to stop Lucifer, but, to his surprise, Lucifer struggled, _unable_ to break the chains. Normally, Lucifer would be able to tear right through them…

Lucifer's shame-filled voice broke through the jingling of the chains, grabbing Dean's attention. "I'm like you, now. My wings have been clipped."

 _To be continued._


	2. Being Human

_"Good to see you too, Sammy. Anyways, it's not important. Right now, it's important that we get my grace back, yeah?"_

 _"What do you mean by 'endless'? I thought an angel's grace was limited once it was extracted…"_

 _"Ding, ding, ding! That's exactly right. But… I'm not, exactly, an ordinary angel, am I?"_

"Sam, he's human. It's painfully obvious," Dean had, to his own distaste, decided to believe the Devil, for now.

"Well, that will keep him from being much of a threat, right? I don't see how that's bad," Sam pondered the idea of Lucifer being human. It was actually tragically ironic in the most hilarious way.

"It's bad, because someone… something is out there with an endless energy source!" Lucifer had crawled out of the dungeon (not literally) and found himself following Dean to find Sam. Even without his grace, he seemed to be good at just appearing out of nowhere, because the brothers jumped just slightly at his voice and turned to look at him.

"You let him out?" Sam asked, confused. That didn't seem like Dean at all.

"No, I didn't- how-" Dean was at a loss for words, rather unable to figure out how Lucifer got himself out.

Lucifer just shrugged, leaning on the doorway for support, seeing as he still needed it. "Good to see you too, Sammy. Anyways, it's not important. Right now, it's important that we get my grace back, yeah?"

The brothers were quiet until Sam spoke up. "What do you mean by 'endless'? I thought an angel's grace was limited once it was extracted…"

Lucifer chuckled slightly, making a ringing noise as if Sam had answered correctly on a game show. " _Ding, ding, ding!_ That's _exactly_ right. But… I'm not, exactly, an ordinary angel, am I?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, deciding to push onwards with his curiosity. "Archangel grace holds different properties?"

"Correct again, Sammy!" Lucifer glanced over at Dean with a certain hatred, but it came out as more of a distaste. "You're behind two points, pretty boy."

That earned a roll of Dean's eyes, to which Lucifer responded with, "yeah, roll your eyes at me. You might find something back there besides your over-inflated ego."

Sam stifled a laugh, which Dean glared at him. Sam tried to justify himself; "what? Devil or not, that's hilarious."

Dean sighed in exasperation then tried to change the subject. "So, why is an archangel's grace endless?"

Lucifer didn't answer Dean. Probably out of spite. He looked expectantly towards Sam.

But Sam was only confused, and he looked at Dean for an answer.

Dean only grumbled, thoroughly annoyed. "I swear, you're like a thirteen-billion-year-old child!" He spoke up after quietly voicing his thoughts, looking at Sam. "He wants to talk to you, not me."

It was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. He shouldn't have expected any less from Lucifer. His brother and the archangel never got along.

Well, Dean did shoot him with the Colt. And throw his Apocalypse off track. And throw his ass in the cage. His hatred was justified.

Then again, it worked the other way around, too. The Winchesters' lives had been complete hell from the beginning all thanks to little Luce.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Lucifer spoke first, seeming concerned with himself. "Sam, you're human. Why does my stomach hurt so badly?"

It hit the Winchesters like a train: the fact that Lucifer was human. And he now had to deal with everything that came with being human. Oh, this was going to be a long week…

"That's hunger, Lucifer. It means you need to eat," Sam explained, gesturing to the kitchen. "There's food in the fridge if you want to figure out what you want."

For a moment, Lucifer didn't really move, since the reality of the situation was hitting him hard. Wow, he already hated being human. It sucked. And he was a bit afraid to eat. He never had, before. What did food taste like, anyway? Was it good? And the process of digestion; was it painful? These thoughts made the former archangel far too uneasy to actually do anything about his body's starving needs. "I think I'll pass…"

Dean didn't really care whether or not Lucifer took care of himself, but Sam seemed to. He walked over to Lucifer, and, for once, Lucifer actually felt a little intimidated by Sam's height. It was probably natural human instinct. But he pushed that down, considering he believed Sam was his only 'friend' here.

"Come on, I'll help you, okay? I guess it could be kind of weird trying to do something you've never done before without a little bit of help…" Sam was sympathetic, especially compared to Dean, who only glared onwards at the Devil's form retreating into the kitchen, followed by his younger brother. Stupid Satan.

An hour later, Lucifer discovered that he would refuse to live on Sam's diet, which he so artfully named the "tasteless, eat-less diet", or he occasionally switched it up with "the unbe-leaf-able diet", which got a facepalm from Sam and made Lucifer happy. Instead, he stole Dean's leftovers from the last burger stop, finding it to be the only edible thing that didn't take long to prepare (Dean did not know his hamburger was stolen, and there would surely be consequences).

Lucifer seemed to be content, no longer complaining of the pain called hunger. It annoyed him more than anything, only further reminding him of his newfound mortality.

And, seeing the Devil was satisfied, Sam decided to push onwards on the whole 'endless grace' thing. It kind of seemed important.

But Sam didn't get to ask. Even without his grace, Lucifer could tell what was on Sam's mind. "Dad made us so that we would get stronger with time. He wanted us to have… something of a childhood… and then, when we matured, we would be strong enough to fight Amara. So, our grace was something he tampered with before our creation. For every bit of power we use, we only get stronger, whereas normal angels have a constant, non-depleting supply of power, as long as their grace remains intact. The more us archangels fight and heal and use our wings, the stronger those components become. There really is no way to measure the amount of grace one has, but, let's say, for explanation's sake, for every unit of power we use, we regain a unit, plus part of another one. And for every century our grace exists, it gains five units of power. Does that make sense? It could probably be represented with some complicated Calculus…" Lucifer really was trying to explain it in a way that Sam could understand, but it was hard to explain something so abstract. It didn't stop him from trying, though.

Sam seemed to understand, though, nodding slightly as he thought about it. "And, let me guess, the grace doesn't need a host to continue multiplying?"

"Exactly. Anyone could create an infinite power source with it that is just going to get more and more dangerous."

Finally, it seemed, Sam realized why Lucifer was so insistent on coming to them, despite the obvious danger. They actually had a common enemy, now. One that could wipe out the human race and more.

But a question arose in Sam's mind, which he voiced, "but what would happen if a normal angel took the grace? Or even a human?"

Lucifer shook his head just slightly, easily able to answer such a question, as if he'd thought of the very same thing beforehand. "A human wouldn't be able to take any of that grace without imploding. It's too great a power for anything that… fragile." He cast Sam an almost longing look at that. Perhaps he still somewhat longed to be in Sam's body. After all, it was his true vessel. His most comfortable home. Even if Nick sufficed, surely he still longed for Sam…

But he pushed those thoughts aside, continuing with his answer. "And an angel could only take small quantities of it at a time without suffering the same fate. I wouldn't know of anything else that could handle that much power without collapsing in on itself."

"What about a demon? One like Abaddon or Crow-"

"No way in hell could scum like that handle any of my power." Lucifer didn't even let Sam say his name. It seemed he was still a bit touchy on that whole subject. It wasn't all that surprising, though. His opinion on demons hadn't changed in the slightest. Again, not surprising.

While Sam was thinking about who could possibly be able to contain that kind of power, Lucifer seemed to go rather quiet. That caught Sam's attention. "What is it, Lucifer?"

"Nothing, Sam. I'm just unsure of what this feeling is." That was a half-truth, but Sam didn't push, for now.

"What kind of feeling is it?"

"It's in my throat… I don't know…"

"That might be thirst. Here, let's get you some water…"

"Dean, something's out there with a lot of power. We can't just back down from this one!" Sam and Dean were arguing in the next room over while Lucifer seemed to be exploring different tastes in liquid. Water, beer, vitamin water…

"Sam, I've had enough of this! I've saved the world enough times in the past several years. Maybe someone else can take a hit for us this time, yeah? Besides, who's saying he's even telling the truth?! Maybe he's just trying to use us to get his misplaced grace back!"

"He's not lying," Sam said, rather sure of himself. Why? Because he trusted Lucifer. He trusted him far more than Dean ever would. It was something he couldn't really explain, but he felt as if Lucifer _couldn't_ lie to him. And he wasn't too far off.

Sam was the only person that Lucifer would feel guilty lying to. And Lucifer couldn't feel guilty. It would mean he was wrong. It would mean he was the bad guy. And he told himself over and over again that he wasn't. He couldn't contradict that. Not after everything.

"So you trust _the Devil?_ " Dean scoffed. Obviously, he was skeptical. There was really no reason Dean found he could fully believe Lucifer's story. After all, it's not like people were dying on a mass scale. In fact, the world seemed relatively peaceful. They hadn't had a case in over a week.

Actually, that was concerning. They never didn't have work. That was kind of odd…

"Yes, Dean, as a matter of fact, I do. And you should, too." Sam was irritated that Dean couldn't see past his own hatred for the archangel. It was to be expected, but it was still infuriating.

"Why?"

"Because… because I just do, okay?!" Sam snapped at Dean, which only ticked Dean off.

"Whatever. You take care of him, then." Dean huffed as he grabbed his jacket, heading up the stairs to the door.

"Hey, where are you going?!" Sam didn't really want to be left alone with Lucifer, even if he was only human.

"I'm goin' for a drive. I'll be back in an hour."

"I don't understand. If she hates this 'Stacy' girl so much, why doesn't she just kill her? It would surely get rid of her problems."

"Because killing is illegal, Lucifer."

"You two do it all of the time, Sam. Are you simply exempt from the law?"

Sam sighed, shaking his head, deciding to leave the room, going out to the kitchen to get a beer.

He heard the bunker door close, and he assumed Dean was home. It had been way more than an hour, and Sam had been tense from the moment he left.

Dean came into the kitchen with a few groceries and the day's paper, setting everything down on the counter, then glancing around. "Where's Lucifer?"

Sam only sighed, walking over to the bedrooms wordlessly.

Dean followed cautiously, unsure of what Sam was doing.

Sam opened the door to his bedroom, and Lucifer was sitting on his bed, enveloped in a TV show.

"What the hell? What is he even watching?"

"I don't know. He just came in here and made himself comfortable. He started yelling at the TV at some point, and I found him just like this."

"Is this a high school drama?"

Sam shrugged.

"Because nothing is more fascinating than watching the real-life, human drama unfold in front of me because you two just don't cut it." Lucifer's tone was pure sarcasm. "You guys realize I can hear you, right?"

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. He still felt uncomfortable with Lucifer so close to Sam. Close to him, even. Sure, Lucifer was powerless, but he was still the same Devil.

Sam sighed, going into the room and picking up the TV remote, turning it off, which brought a negative response from Lucifer.

"Hey, I was watching that-"

"Do you want your wings back or not?"

Lucifer went silent at the mention of his wings. He obviously wanted his wings back. More than anything.

Sam had a feeling Lucifer wasn't going to answer him, so he assumed his silence was a 'yes'. "Then we need to know everything you can remember from… whatever happened."

Lucifer nodded slowly, sighing. But he remained silent.

"Lucifer?" Sam was confused. Maybe Lucifer had gotten lost in thought? Or maybe he was too shy to answer. After all, he'd been beaten pretty badly. But whatever it was left him alive… that was something.

"Sam, I'm sorry, I'm trying, but…. Well, there's nothing there… I remember… I was in… in, uh… Idaho, I think, and then it just goes black… and then I'm practically crawling through your front door… Wait, no, I remember I was in a lot of pain… and chains…" Lucifer genuinely looked upset and panicked. Lucifer was so used to remembering everything. Every little detail from the past fourteen billion years of his life. Drawing blank like this? He didn't know how to react.

Sam sighed and shook his head, looking at Dean. "Now what? Go to Idaho?"

Dean thought for a moment, then said, "No, I think we should try to figure something else out. That could have been weeks ago. And it would take a lot of time that we don't have to get to Idaho."

Lucifer got up from the bed, which instinctively made Dean reach for his gun, and, Lucifer, being smart and cautious with his newfound mortality, stopped moving. "Woah, hold it there, cowboy. I'm not going to snap anyone's neck."

Lucifer looked mildly annoyed – not really scared or anything – while Dean took his hand off the gun, letting Lucifer pass by him.

The former archangel ended up in the kitchen, going for a snack of some kind, but his eyes caught the paper, instead. Interested, he unrolled it, picking it up and reading it, flipping through the pages. Something caught his eyes. "Sam!"

It was amazing how fast Sam appeared in the kitchen. It was almost like he ran. Maybe he thought Lucifer had hurt himself, but he was a little confused when he saw Lucifer perfectly fine, just standing there, holding the paper.

"Yes, Lucifer?" He sighed out the question. Oh, maybe he was disappointed Lucifer hadn't been hurt.

Lucifer turned the paper towards him, pointing at a headline. "This sounds like your guys' kind of thing, yeah? A vampire, maybe?"

Sam quickly read over the headline. It didn't give a lot of information, but yeah… it looked like a vampire. He nodded.

"Perfect. A vampire can't be too difficult, right? Take it easy for my first case."

"Your what?" Dean had arrived only just after Sam, and he just now decided to speak up.

"My first case. The more I work, the closer I'll get to finding my wings, yeah? Sitting around won't find them.

"Lucifer, you can't come with. It's going to be dangerous, and I can't rely on _you_ to watch my back," Dean declared, watching the former archangel cross his arms over his chest in irritation.

"And why not?"

Dean rolled his eyes, giving him an answer: "because you're not up to par right now. You can't even hold your own! And you're… _you!_ "

Lucifer scoffed, looking mildly offended. "Yes, I can! And that's discrimination!"

And, with that, Dean quickly tripped him, and Lucifer hit the floor with an ungraceful thud, followed by a grunt.

"You can't even fight me," Dean observed, feeling mildly proud that he knocked the Devil on his ass.

Lucifer brushed himself off as he rose to his feet, a light pink dusting his cheeks from embarrassment. "W-well, I'm not used to these... These humanly slow reflexes! It's not my fault! I'll figure it out," he huffed, before pointing his thumb towards his back, continuing; " besides, these are _my_ wings. One step closer. Like Hell I'm gonna let you go find them without me. I'd rather die."

Dean shot Sam a glance, who had been quiet up until this point, as he grumbled, "Yeah, well that can be arranged..."

"No, Dean, we can't kill him."

Dean looked annoyed with that, but he decided not to push on.

It was silent for a few moments, and Sam decided he needed to fill Dean in on everything Lucifer had told him in the kitchen, earlier. "Dean, I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, Sam, convince him I can come with-"

"Not… not about that." Sam sighed, pulling Dean away from Lucifer, into the main area of the bunker. "So, get this…"

 _To be continued._


	3. Empathy

_"You know, it's kind of cute seeing him all passed out like that."_

 _"Sam, if you ever say anything relating to the Devil as 'cute' ever again, I'll kill myself."_

 _"Drama queen."_

 _"Bitch."_

 _"Jerk."_

"Always keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to fire."

"Yes, Sam, I know how to use a gun," Lucifer sighed, clearly bored with this lesson in gun safety, which Dean demanded Sam give Lucifer before he let him anywhere near the Impala.

Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of annoyance. "Look, if you cooperate, this will go by a lot faster."

"But, Sam, I already know these things. Right after Nick's family died, he learned how to use a gun. He kept one hidden in his room. I know everything he does."

It didn't matter how many times Lucifer protested; Lucifer was re-taught everything to do with guns and gun safety. Cleaning and loading and unloading, etc., etc. By the end of the two hours it took, he was an expert. His aim wasn't spot on, but it was pretty good. He hit most of the targets he was supposed to, except maybe three or four. That wasn't bad at all. All in all, the Devil was pretty reliable. Didn't change Dean's opinion on him, though. That was to be expected.

The Winchesters decided it would be best to hit the road 'a.s.a.f.p.' ('as soon as friggin' possible', according to Dean, since Lucifer had to ask.) Within the hour, they were all ready to go.

"You know, it's kind of cute seeing him all passed out like that." Sam commented as he glanced in the back seat, where Lucifer was softly snoring, his arm covering his face.

"Sam, if you ever say anything relating to the Devil as 'cute' ever again, I'll kill myself." Dean faked a gag.

Sam only rolled his eyes, slightly smiling. "Drama queen."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

 **Much Timeskip, Very fast forward, Many wow**

"FBI. I'm agent Cornell, and this is agent Jackson. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband." Dean explained to the woman who opened the door.

Lucifer was stuck in the car, much to his annoyance. He just watched the pair from a distance.

"Agents, I'm sorry, this really isn't a good time. I… I can't do anymore questions today, I'm sorry…" Her voice cracked as she held back a sob, closing the door.

Sam glanced at Dean, raising an eyebrow as he let out a small breath. "Well, now what?"

Seeing as the boys weren't making any progress, their friendly neighborhood Devil decided to assert himself, getting out of the Impala and coming over to them.

"You're supposed to stay in the car-" Dean protested, not wanting to deal with Lucifer's shenanigans and snappy comments at the moment.

"Have you ever heard of empathy, Dean? The woman's grieving. Now, go. Watch a master at work." Lucifer shooed the pair off. Dean was inclined to argue, but Sam sort of tugged him away, whispering something about giving him a chance.

Lucifer knocked on the door, his arms folded loosely, as he was trying to convey a certain aura of shyness.

The door was opened once again, and the woman quietly asked, "yes? Can I help you?"

Lucifer suddenly sounded… not like Lucifer. He sounded human… he sounded like… like… Nick. "Hey… Um… my name is Nick… I moved in down the street a few weeks ago. I don't know if we've met, yet." He ran a hand through his hair as if he was nervous, his eyes darting away as he let out a small breath, really selling the whole act. "I heard about what happened… and I saw those agents bothering you. I kind of know what you're going through… my wife, Sarah, and my baby… baby boy were… They… they passed…" He took in a breath and let it out shakily. "I know how to cope and such… and I was hoping maybe I could help you…"

Dean's jaw practically dropped, and Sam was a little more than impressed as the woman nodded and invited him inside.

Lucifer returned to them two hours later. Dean had passed out in the driver's seat of the Impala while Sam had his laptop on his lap, looking up information and such.

Sam had a general idea of where this vampire might be hiding. But he wanted to confirm his suspicions with Lucifer's information, assuming he successfully got anything.

Lucifer knocked on Dean's window, which scared the shit out of him, jolting him awake. He gave Lucifer a nice long glare before he decided to unlock the doors, letting the former angel in.

"So, did you get anything?" Sam asked him as Lucifer got settled in the back seat.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the name and address of the last person who saw her husband alive," he stated with a touch of arrogance in his tone. He was trying to get on Dean's nerves, it seemed. And it was working.

"Yeah, yeah, just give me the damn address."

It only took a few minutes to get to the house in question. Once the Impala was parked, Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Lucifer spoke first.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, stay in the car while you guys go roleplay. I got it. You're welcome, by the way." Lucifer huffed, rolling his eyes.

Seeing as Dean clearly didn't need to say anything, he got out of the car with Sam, going up to the front door.

Dean knocked and waited for the door to open. He pulled out his badge, flashing it as he spoke once the door was opened. "FBI. We're looking for Ronnie Stevenson."

"That would be me." The man who answered the door replied, opening it a little wider. "It's a little late for you guys to be pounding on doors, you know…" The time was almost nine o' clock, so the man was already dressed in his pajamas. "Is this going to take long?"

"That depends on you," Sam answered, gesturing inside. "Is it alright if we come in? We just have some questions for you."

Ronnie nodded and let the boys in, closing the door behind them. He then led them to his living room. "Did you want anything to drink, or…?"

Sam shook his head, not wanting to get off topic. "We're fine, thanks."

Ronnie sat down with a slight nod, and the boys followed in suit.

"So, you worked with Darryl, correct? From what I understand, you two were good friends." Sam began, clasping his hands together and relaying the information that Lucifer had told them on the way over.

"Yes, that's right."

"And you saw him the night before he disappeared? Tell me about that night."

Ronnie looked uneasy as he began stating the events that occurred. "Well, Darryl and I went out to get a drink after work, like we usually do on Thursday nights. That all went normally. I made sure not to go past my limit so I could drive, and I wouldn't let Darryl drive plastered."

Sam nodded as Ronnie continued, a little more nervously, now.

"After we decided to call it a night, I was driving Darryl home, and I guess I took a wrong turn somewhere, and we ended up on Durch Boulevard, which is kind of far from his house. I might have had a little more than usual…" He didn't like admitting this, but he continued when he got no response from the two 'agents'. "I didn't recognize where we were, and I'm not caught up with the latest technology, so I don't have those maps that are on the phones… so I decided to get out of the car and ask someone for directions. I knocked on a few doors, but nobody answered. At that point, Darryl decided he was going to get out of the car to help, since it had been a bit, and he'd sobered up a tad. I thought I saw someone go into the abandoned warehouse, which was a little sketchy to me, but Darryl took off after them…"

"Did you follow Darryl?" Dean asked, having been quiet since they entered the house.

"I didn't want to, but I figured he'd get himself into trouble if I didn't. So, I went into the alleyway and walked up to the door I'd seen him go in, and I about ran into him. He came out lookin' like he'd seen a ghost or something, and he told me that we should leave."

"Did he say why?" Sam 's interest was piqued at this, as the warehouse had been one of the places he'd been suspicious of.

"No, and I didn't ask. But, anyways, we headed back over to the car and turned around. Eventually, I got him home, and then I went home. That's it. I mean, it's nothing really. No one else has come asking about it. And he wasn't sober when he was acting all weird, so I didn't think anything of it…"

"Is that everything you can remember? Even the littlest details could help." Sam urged the man for more information, which he got.

"Well, yeah… I went back to the warehouse yesterday morning, because I was thinking it might have a clue, but when I got there, the door was locked. I would have sworn that it was left unlocked at all times, especially since the previous owner lost the key a few months back."

"How do you know about the key?"

"Well, see, I know Jim. That warehouse used to be really useful for the company I work for, but, after everything became online and less people were buying from us, the company shrank down, and we didn't need the space anymore. Jim started using that place for recreation, but, since it's so far out of the way, that didn't work out either. Eventually, he just gave up on it and decided to sell it to the bank. But a few days before they came to collect the keys, he claimed somebody stole them off of him."

Sam and Dean were both thinking the same thing. Chances were, it was the vampire. Probably looking for a new place to drag victims and hide.

Dean asked, "did he ever describe who he thought stole the key?"

Ronnie thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, now that you mention it, he did. He said that he couldn't get a real good look at him, but it was some teenager. He was dressed in all black. Real goth-y type, you know?"

Sam, who had started to take notes sometime back, nodded and got up. "Thank you for your time, Mister Stevenson. I think you've given us all of the information we need."

"You're welcome, agent." Ronnie and Dean stood up as well, and Ronnie led the boys out of the house.

Once they were out of earshot, Sam spoke. "Dean, I was looking into that warehouse while Lucifer was talking to Darryl's wife. It's in a pretty industrial area. Not a lot of people go around there. I mean, it would be perfect for a vampire to hide in."

Dean nodded as he got into the Impala, Sam doing the same.

Of course, Lucifer had been waiting. Impatiently. "Took you guys long enough. So, did you learn anything with my information? Or was this just a waste of gas?"

Dean sighed as he fired up the Impala, rolling his eyes, tempted to kick Lucifer out of the car. He didn't want to deal with the Devil anymore. "If you don't shut up and wipe that smug-ass look off your face, which I know you have, I'm gonna put a bullet through your head."

 **Surprise, surprise, another timeskip**

"You can't just leave me in here! I can actually do shit, you know!" Lucifer protested as Dean left Lucifer in the Impala, not giving Sam much say in the matter.

"Stay. We'll be back in five minutes. It's just one vampire. No big deal." Dean tried to convince Lucifer into cooperating, but it didn't really work.

"One vampire. Exactly. I can handle one vampire." Lucifer was more than ready to fight something. He'd been aching to do something about his wings ever since he'd woken up. With the pain of his healing wounds dulled, he felt nothing but exhilaration for this almost-closed case.

But the only response he got was a glare from Dean and the sound of the Impala's driver's side door being shut.

The former archangel let out a scoff, only returning the glare towards Dean's retreating form, which turned into an alleyway, disappearing. Sam only glanced back at Lucifer before disappearing as well.

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes that he genuinely thought he was wasting. He'd managed to get the intel on this place, and he can't even get in on the action? Stupid…

But Lucifer didn't move, just like he was told, only lounging in the back seat and examining his fingernails, which were actually rather clean. So, he gave up on that only a few moments later, letting out a bored sigh.

Five minutes felt like hours, but, that five minutes was up, and he sat up, glancing over towards the alleyway that the pair had disappeared into.

Okay… maybe they were just finishing up? Maybe there was nothing here and they were looking for clues? Either way, they weren't back yet.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen.

This was taking too damn long, Lucifer decided as he grabbed the keys out of the ignition, shutting the car off. He got out of the car, going around to the back of the car, and fumbling through the keys to find the right one to open the trunk. It only took a few seconds before Lucifer had successfully opened the trunk, opening the compartment at the bottom and propping it up.

Lucifer rolled his eyes as he looked at the mess of weapons, letting out a sigh. "This is organization? I think not," he mumbled as he scanned for a weapon that would suit him best. There was a small pistol – smaller than any normal pistol – that caught his eye. It would be easy to hide if he got into trouble and needed it. He grabbed that, finding a suitable hiding place on his person, then he continued to look. Vampires, right? Decapitation. Did they have another machete? Oh, yes, they did. He grabbed the machete, along with its sheath, strapping the sheath to his side and putting the machete in it.

Lucifer glanced over the arsenal one last time, debating on whether or not to bring anything else. He decided against it. If he came in packed and loaded, it would make it more difficult to move around. So, he closed the trunk, stuffing the keys into his pocket after grabbing a flashlight, unsure if it would be dark, and stuffing it in his pocket.

Luckily, the street they'd parked on was all but abandoned. In the total of twenty minutes that Lucifer had been there, not a single person passed by. It made it easier to rummage through the trunk without worrying about onlookers. But, at the same time, if filled him with an odd sense of dread. It was eerie. It was on purpose. These vampires had chosen this place because of its desertion.

Lucifer sighed as he tried to come up with a plan (and what to tell Sam if they weren't in trouble) for when he got in there. After a few moments of thought, he found himself walking towards the alleyway. He stopped just before the corner, glancing into what seemed to be an engulfing darkness, which hid the entrance to the abandoned warehouse. But a little bit of fear was healthy, Lucifer decided. It would keep him on his toes.

He turned the corner and began searching for a door – or even a window – so that he could enter and see what he was up against, assuming he was up against anything. Eventually, he found a door, discovering any windows that could be safely reached were boarded up. Probably on purpose.

The former-devil (or still-devil?) found that the door was cracked open, not closed all the way. That was probably Sam and Dean's doing, since closing the door might alert the vampires that they were there.

After stepping inside, Lucifer assessed the state of the building. It was certainly falling apart. Some of the walls had crumbled away, revealing water pipes and wires, as well as structural beams. Hell, the entire building felt like it might crumble at any moment. The interior walls (if there ever were any) were long gone. The ceiling was several stories high, and long, suspended lights (lightbulbs, really) dimly lit the inside.

Near the far wall, a single interior wall remained standing, a door leading to another room. Seeing that three vampires were lingering near that wall, he assumed that Sam and Dean were in that room either dead or captured.

Great. Since when did one mean three? This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.

The only male vampire among the three turned. He was pale with black hair and green eyes. He was young. Maybe nineteen. And arrogant.

"Well, well, well. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear." The male's voice was soft but assertive. The smirk that drew itself onto his features changed the tone of his voice into that of a more playful one.

The two female vampires stayed back, letting what Lucifer assumed to be their leader deal with him.

One of the females was dark skinned with black hair and brown eyes. Dressed rather fashionably. Her lips were cherry red. Cosmetics, no doubt.

The other seemed a bit shyer. She seemed smarter, too. She wouldn't look Lucifer in the eyes. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were blue. She had short platinum blonde hair that was styled with a red bandana. Her clothes were simple: just a grey t-shirt and jeans, as well as a pair of sneakers. She was also quite young. Maybe seventeen or eighteen. There was something off about her… something familiar… could it be?

Lucifer answered shortly after the male spoke, after evaluating how he was going to manage three of them, taking a few steps forward, away from his only escape. He didn't want to seem intimidated or afraid. "Oh, you were talking about little ol' me? I'm flattered." His tone was flat as he put on a fake smile, just to drive the point home that he wasn't really here to talk.

But it didn't matter since the male decided he was going to have a little fun with the fallen angel. He had some questions, though. "Pardon my ignorance, oh, Prince of Darkness, but isn't your corpse supposed to be rotting at the bottom of some river bank?" At this, the blonde girl seemed to tense. She knew something. "We'd been informed you'd been… disposed of."

"Sorry to disappoint. But it's not that easy to kill the Devil, yeah? Where's Sam?" Lucifer didn't give a damn about Dean, but Sam? Yeah, he cared a little.

"I'm afraid he's a little tied up, at the moment. And it's not like you can rescue him. We've heard your wings have been clipped." The male seemed obviously proud of this information. Maybe he was excited to see if he could try and take down the Devil, now that the odds had been evened.

Lucifer hated that this information had got out, but, he decided not to react to it, doing what he did best. Manipulation. "Really? Because, thus far, your sources have been pretty unreliable, haven't they? Who says you're not bait? Or a test of my strength?"

Lucifer's suggestions seemed to get to the three of them, but the blonde one seemed the most on edge. Actually, it seemed as if Lucifer was right, in some aspects. Maybe he wasn't spot-on, but, with each question, the blonde looked as if she was going to run. Something was going on.

Despite his uneasiness, the male vampire, forced himself to relax. Sure, their information hadn't been correct… but… but they wouldn't just throw them at Lucifer for fun, would they? "Wouldn't you have killed us by now if you could?" He asked uneasily, worried that Lucifer might take it as a suggestion.

"Haven't you heard? I like to play with my prey." He was going to keep this going for as long as he could until he formulated a solid plan that would get him and Sam (and maybe Dean) out of there alive.

But he wouldn't get the time he needed, as the leader's eyes fell upon the sheath of his machete. With a smirk, his uneasiness disappearing, the male spoke once again, "You're bluffing. You wouldn't need that if you had your wings. Man, I knew I could get Sam and Dean, but Lucifer, himself? I'm just that good. I'm definitely getting a bonus for this." The vampire began to walk forward, leaving the two women behind.

Damn. Of course. Lucifer held his ground at that point, reaching, not for the machete, but for the pistol, which he pulled out of its hiding spot, aiming it at the vampire.

But the male only laughed continuing to come forward. "Really? I mean, I know you've never had to resort to these methods to protect yourself, but I would have thought you knew better. That isn't going to stop me."

"No, but it'll slow you down," Lucifer stated, his eyes, flicking upwards, the vampire's eyes following.

The male stopped in his tracks, glancing at one of the fire-hazard-lights that were dangling from the ceiling, which was only another step in front of him. Oh, if only Lucifer hadn't looked up.

The vampire chuckled, applauding just slightly. "Creative. You're on the right track. That would have slowed me down quite a bit."

Lucifer lets out a fake nervous chuckle, nodding just slightly before suddenly turning, letting a few rounds go through the barrel of his pistol. He managed to hit his target: a water main, which burst with intense pressure, even from across the room, managing to soak the vampire and the area around him in rusty, old water, barely missing Lucifer, who had quickly taken a step or two away.

The vampire, unimpressed and more annoyed than anything, flicked some of the disgusting liquid off him, spitting some of it out with a disgruntled groan of disgust. Out of his annoyance, he let out a sarcastic comment: "Oh. I'm wet. I think I might melt." He scoffed, glaring at the former angel. "Is that really the best you've got? Water isn't going to kill me, dumbass! Enough with the parlor tricks-"

The vampire barely got the last word out before Lucifer let another two bullets fly, aimed at the worn rope holding the light fixture. Again, he managed to hit his target, and the rope gave way. Before another sarcastic comment could be made, the bulb broke as it hit the wet floor, the live wires coming into contact with the conductive liquid and sending sparks of electricity through it. The entire room suddenly flickered, many of the lights bursting. Old wiring and a sudden surge of energy were overwhelming. And the vampires body shook and shivered and steamed uncontrollably, as yells and screams of pain ripped through him, before he seemed to fall unconscious (assumingly, since it was a vampire. Lucifer was unsure of whether or not that would actually kill it, so he remained on the safe side, deciding it would be best to behead him, anyways.)

"Fresh-fried vamp, anyone?" He chuckled, returning the pistol to its spot, deciding to wield the machete, instead. He looked towards the two remaining vampires, both of which looked horrified. But the darker skinned female suddenly became enraged, and she rushed towards Lucifer in the flickering light, which made her very difficult to keep track of.

But Lucifer held his ground, letting her come to him, machete ready. He could only hope that Nick didn't have epilepsy. It would be a very bad time to have a seizure.

The woman acted more out of rage than thought, making it ultimately easy for Lucifer to overpower her. He dodged her swipes and attacked, his machete eventually coming into contact with her neck as he relieved her from her head. It hit the ground with a satisfying squish.  
The blonde made a run for it, but, surprisingly, Lucifer didn't seem to care about her. He let her go.

Not wanting to leave the job half-finished, Lucifer found the breaker panel, shutting off the electricity to the room and getting out his flashlight, turning it on. He walked over to the still body of the male and pushed his machete into his neck, separating his head from his shoulders, managing to get blood squirting up at his face, which resulted in a disgusted, "ugh." He severed the wires while he was at it, so he didn't have to worry about getting electrocuted if he turned the electricity back on – which he did.

He returned to the breaker panel, turning the lights back on. Lucifer wandered over to the far door, which was no longer protected.

Locked. Of. Fucking. Course.

He let out an annoyed huff and backed up, easily kicking down the rotting wooden door, revealing Sam and Dean in chairs, tied up, and gagged. Sam was facing Lucifer, while Dean was facing the wall. Sam looked relieved.

Lucifer immediately went to ungag Sam, glancing over him to look for any major wounds. He seemed okay, which was a relief.

"Sorry it took so long. Mister 'I-know-everything' wouldn't shut his trap. So, I beheaded him." Lucifer said in a joking tone, but he was serious. He simply left out the gorier details. Not that Sam and Dean wouldn't see his handiwork on the way out.

Sam was out of his restraints within a few seconds, as Lucifer severed the ropes that bound him. "Well, I'm impressed. You got through all three of them?"

Lucifer avoided the question, going over to Dean and ungagging him. But he didn't let him go just yet, as he stood there expectantly.

"What?" Dean scoffed, knowing full well what Lucifer was after. But Dean still had his pride.

"I think someone owes me an apology. And a 'thank you for saving my ass from getting eaten by vampires', maybe."

Dean looked exasperated as he rolled his eyes. "Really? Now?"

Lucifer wasn't going to just give like that. He needed some kind of appreciation. "Depends. How long do you want to keep wasting time and sitting there?" Oh, Lucifer wasn't going to let him out. Doubtful that he would let Sam let him out, either.

Sam tried to hide an amused smile as Dean struggled in his bindings, before searching for the words he was going to use to apologize to the Devil.

"I'm sorry for thinking logically about this case and not wanting you as a liability, and thank you for being somewhat competent," Dean snapped, his tone harsh.

Sam expected Lucifer to keep Dean there, but he cut the ropes with an innocent yet smug smile. "You're welcome."

Dean got up with a grumble, rubbing his sore wrists and going over to the table at the far side of the room and grabbing their equipment.

"So, how'd you do it? Three vamps?" Sam urged Lucifer to answer his earlier question.

Lucifer just shrugged, leaving his answer broad. "Creatively."

Dean exited the room, before yelling for Sam, who immediately went over to him, Lucifer slowly following.

"Sam, there were three of them, weren't there? Why are there only two bodies?" Dean asked, glaring at Lucifer, who only shrugged slightly as Sam nodded his head slightly in agreement.

"Well, see, here's the thing… I let one of 'em go." Lucifer didn't seem very troubled by this fact.

Oh, but Dean was. "You what?"

"I let her go. She clearly knew something that the others didn't, and I thought that information might best be kept alive."

Dean sighed, now annoyed. "And how are we supposed to find her? Why didn't you grab her or something?"

"No need. I can track her." Lucifer said proudly, slightly smiling. "I found a lead on my grace."

"Really? Well, tell us." Sam urged Lucifer for more detail.

"Well, she has some of it. Just enough to notice, but not enough to significantly change her abilities. Just enough. And, I bet you, whoever she's running to has more of it, if not the rest." Lucifer was a little excited to have already found a lead on his grace. It had only been a few days because of the drive. They were making good time.

If only it were so easy.

The young blonde vampire stood in a cold, dimly lit room. She couldn't tell how big it was, as the interrogation light above her seemed to cloud her other senses, making it difficult to see without a massive headache coursing through her skull.

"Were you followed?" The voice was low and distorted, as to throw off whom it might be speaking. It came from everywhere at once.

"N-no, sir… I don't think so…" The girl quietly answered, her eyes closed and her head bowed as she nervously fiddled with the fabric of her shirt in her hand. "I l-left before Lucifer freed the Winchesters. I surely managed to get away from him, unless he left them there… but you said he cares for Sam, right? So, he wouldn't do that…" She explained her thought process, still unable to open her eyes, not seeing a figure slowly coming towards.

"Oh, but you were followed. We know you were… but that's okay… this is Lucifer we're dealing with."

The girl quickly apologized, still unsuspecting as the figure came closer.

"It's not your fault, dear… what did you think was in that blood we gave you, hm? You knew there was something… more to it."

"Oh, god, no-" She clasped her hand over her mouth, fighing back a sob. She could feel it inside of her. She knew what it was.

"It's all going to fine…" The voice was comforting as a few tears welled in her closed eyes.

And then her head hit the floor, her body following.

"It's all a part of the plan."

 _To be continued..._


	4. A Drop of Blood

_"You know, can't we ever track down something that's in a five-star hotel, or maybe a mansion?"_

* * *

"Okay, I still don't get it. How do you know it's your grace?" Dean asked for what Lucifer swore was the millionth time. But, of course, Lucifer was impatient, now that he had a lead, so trusting his judgment on how annoying Dean was couldn't be wise.

"Again, as I've now repeated more than I should, but I will, since your brain can't seem to process it; I don't know for sure. It's a gut feeling. Like that feeling you get when you come home. It's a feeling of security, and it doesn't make sense that I would get that feeling from a random vampire if my grace wasn't behind it." Lucifer huffed out in frustration, folding his arms as he glared at Dean, who was looking at him through the rear-view mirror.

Dean simply rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh. "I hate that it's not a solid lead…"

"But it's all that we've got," Sam chimed in, his laptop pulled out on his lap, open and scrolling through the news.

"Are we still headed in the right direction?" Dean asked hesitantly, speaking to Lucifer, of course.

"Yeah. That feeling is getting stronger, though… like there's more of it. You don't think that little girl has it all, do you?" Lucifer posed the question, looking skeptical.

"A vampire like her? No. She's probably working for someone." Dean answered immediately. It was a gut feeling and his logic made sense.

"That would explain where they got their information."

"What do you mean?" Sam inquired. Lucifer hadn't given the pair the details of the fight.

"Well, when I showed up, they told me they had been informed I was dead. Whoever's giving them information jumped the gun a little too early."

Dean shook his head slightly, thinking of another possibility. "That, or they were being fed false information."

Lucifer nodded at the idea. He'd originally thought the same thing. "I think the girl we're tracking knew I was alive. She didn't seem as surprised, nor as eager to fight me as the others. I think she knew the truth and left the other two in the dark."

"So, they were bait. Lovely. I think we're dealing with professionals." Sam stated. With a glance over his shoulder, Lucifer could see several news articles and even reports on weather open. Sam seemed to be trying to track his grace by its supernatural properties.

"Professionals that would work with monsters?" Dean countered, skeptical about that conclusion.

"They probably don't plan to keep the monsters alive, Dean. Just to achieve an end, you know?"

"We're close." Lucifer interrupted their current conversation in favor of paying attention to the current task at hand.

Sam sorted through his tabs, closing out a few and focusing on a weather report in the nearby area. "So, get this: for the past five days, this town's been at a record low for this time of year."

"And you think it's…?" Dean began to ask, but Sam just cut him off.

"Yeah."

"Oh, that looks pleasant," Lucifer commented as they neared the edge of a city, old, abandoned industrial buildings coming into view. Lucifer was pretty quick to assume their target was in one of those buildings, and Dean and Sam had the same line of thought. "It's strong here… We should continue on foot."

Dean looked for a good place to park the car, before getting out and going around to the trunk. Sam and Lucifer got out of the car as well, following him.

"You know, can't we ever track down something that's in a five-star hotel, or maybe a mansion?" Dean ventured sarcastically, mumbling to himself as he lifted the panel to access their armory.

They were already prepared for vampires, but they weren't sure what else they'd find in there. Angels? Demons? Who knows?

Lucifer got to work on reloading the gun he'd used, as did Dean. Sam got out two angel blades, searching for another.

"Hey, Dean, don't we have another blade?" Sam questioned, still sorting through the unorganized arsenal.

"Maybe back at the bunker, but that's a little far away…" Dean replied as he finished loading his gun. He realized why Sam asked swiftly. "Oh, we don't have enough?" He glanced at Lucifer, who hadn't been paying attention until this point.

Lucifer caught on as well, nodding slightly, "I got myself covered, don't worry." And he reached into his coat, pulling out, not an angel blade, but an archangel blade. "You don't think I'd let you get away with confiscating this, do you? Or the other one, for that matter. Call me sentimental, but they mean something to me."

Ah, yes, when Lucifer first arrived, he was stripped of all weapons, including his two archangel blades. He'd recovered them both, but he only brought one.

Now, Sam would have sworn he hid both blades very well. He even hid them separately, just in case Lucifer found one. But Lucifer knew Sam a little too well. Just a day in his head was more than enough to find his hiding place.

Sam didn't say anything, but he did pull a bitchface, which, in turn, made Lucifer shrug it off.

Dean just rolled his eyes, closing the trunk since everyone seemed to be done with it. "What's the plan?"

"Hold on, hold on… what if it's a trap?" Sam pondered, "What if there's an ambush in there?"

Both Dean and Lucifer were struck silent, unable to give an answer to that, since it was a very real possibility now that it was brought to their attention.

The silence continued for a long moment as the three contemplated their options. Eventually, however, Lucifer broke the silence; "I think you should let me go on ahead. You guys can come in after, and-"

Sam wasn't fond of that idea, and he interrupted before Lucifer could continue. "That will get you killed. We don't know what we're up against."

"If they wanted to kill me, they would have already done so. But I trust you guys to back me up if I get in a tight spot!"

Sam groaned slightly, not wanting to go through with that, but Dean seemed to be on the same page as Lucifer.

"Sam, he's right. He should go in first. He's the least likely of us to end up dead that way."

It seemed Sam was out-voted. "Fine, be careful."

Lucifer chuckled at that, starting to walk up towards what looked to be an abandoned car factory. "Aren't I always?"

The boys remained silent, deciding to stay in the car and watch Lucifer make his way into the factory.

It was cold and damp. Two things Lucifer had never gotten used to feeling. The squeaking of a rat set him on edge as if he wasn't already struggling to keep himself calm. Chains clanked together as a slight breeze drifted through a broken wall, the wooden structure barely holding itself together.

It smelled. It was like someone upchucked several times and left it to rot. It made the former angel wrinkle his nose in disgust. He had to push past such a human reaction. He'd been around worse. Then again, he didn't really have much of a stomach until now.

Lucifer knew well that he wasn't alone. Just by gut feeling. That was more than enough to prompt every ability to sneak he had. He stuck close to one of the walls, despite a lingering feeling that it wasn't the safest place to be. He felt that if he even leaned on the wall in the slightest, the entire building would come crumbling down.

His thoughts came to a halt as he noticed something on the ground near the edge of the room. A light, which wasn't on, making Lucifer squint to struggle to see what the figure that was haphazardly left to the rats was.

Lucifer glanced back towards the door, half hoping to see Sam and Dean there, despite his orders to stay behind until they were needed, but they had remained behind. The one time they actually listened.

The cool, blue-ish light of the moon dripping through holes in the roof was all Lucifer had to see by. A full moon had overtaken the sky, almost adding more superstition to the whole ordeal, as if it wasn't already eerie enough.

He continued to follow the wall, slowly inching closer to the unidentified figure sprawled out on the floor. The smell from earlier was getting stronger as he got closer.

A loud cry of pain erupted from a rat as Lucifer stepped once again, actually managing to startle him to the point of a small yelp. He looked around again, this time out of embarrassment, hoping no one had seen that. And then he promptly mentally smacked himself for losing focus. Who cared if he got scared? This was a life or death situation, and, right now, embarrassing himself was the least of his worries.

Continuing on, seconds felt like minutes. Each step was more hesitant than the last.

But the eerie feeling began to fade, as a familiar one came into play. His grace. With every step toward the figure, it got stronger and stronger. His steps became a bit more rushed, and he abandoned the wall, simply rushing over to the… body?

Yes, it was the body of the vampire he'd been tracking. Trace amounts of his grace were present, but there wasn't nearly enough for him to absorb any of it. That was depressing. He thought he might actually regain some of his power.

Something was wrong. He could feel it. Something behind him.

In an instant, the former angel stood, and, in one motion, he turned, his gun out and pointed at whoever thought it was a good idea to sneak up on the devil.

And the barrel of the gun was pointed right at Dean's face, who looked… well, unamused.

"You were taking too long. We thought you might be in trouble."

Dean's words didn't really register with Lucifer. The feeling of danger was still there, despite Sam and Dean having come to an unnecessary rescue. He shushed Dean, deciding that silence was best, despite Dean's internal protest, silence is what came.

Lucifer had lowered the gun at that point, the dimness beginning to clear away as his vision adjusted.

Sam made his way back to the entrance, looking around as he took out his own gun, making sure there was no one out there, and Dean turned to cover Sam's back.

And Lucifer, for one moment, was left without cover, and that's all it took.

In one moment, Lucifer was ready to kill anything that wasn't considered a friendly, and the next, he found himself quite literally paralyzed. A high-pitched squeal filled his hearing, although Sam and Dean seemed oblivious. Blood ran from his ears down his neck, and he felt himself begin to collapse, but he was silently caught by an unknown assailant. And he was gone.

Dean shook his head and turned around to scold Lucifer for being so damn paranoid, but when he turned, he was met with nothing. Lucifer was gone.

"Hey! Dumbass! If you think this is funny, this really isn't the time for jokes," Dean bellowed with a tone of irritation.

Sam glanced back once Dean started talking, and, logically, he went over to where Lucifer last was. It didn't take much investigation to notice a fresh drop of blood on the concrete ground. Lucifer was only lucky that he'd left that much behind. "Dean, I don't think this is a joke…"

With some prompting, Dean looked down at the drop of blood, very quickly coming to the same conclusion that Sam had. This was Lucifer's blood.

 _ **To be continued...**_


	5. Divine Intervention

_"Hey! You could at least wash the bag, you know!"_

* * *

Admittedly, Dean's first thought was "good riddance", but the fact that Lucifer was gone could mean nothing good.

"Do you think he was kidnapped?" Sam inquired as he bent down to get a better look at the bloodstain.

"There's no way. I mean, I was standing less than three feet from him. You'd think I'd hear something. There should have been more of a struggle."

"So, you think he just wandered off? That doesn't make any sense…"

"In any case, we should try to find him." Dean hated those words coming out of his mouth, but he knew they had to. Better Lucifer be with them rather than anyone else…

* * *

"Hey! You could at least wash the bag, you know!" The former angel's voice was heavy with exhaustion, having only just regained his ability to speak from the paralysis. The rest of his body was just as weak, and he didn't even have the energy to try to escape the bonds that tied him to a chair.

And the bag sucked. It smelled like blood and sweat, and, frankly, Lucifer didn't like not being able to see what was around him.

A voice pierced what was otherwise just silence. It had a heavy British accent. Male. Maybe in his thirties or forties. It was hard to tell without being able to see him.

"Please, don't make this anymore unpleasant than it already is, Lucifer. I wanted to kill you, but _they_ insist on keeping you alive for some absurd reason."

Lucifer didn't like being talked to like this. He didn't imagine anyone did (unless they had some weird kink or something, but now was not the time to think about that). And the only thing he could growl out was, "well, then, fuck you too." Lucifer felt no need to get caught up in formalities. He'd simply forgone all of his ability to give a shit.

Silence followed. An eerie silence. The room was either carpeted, or the man was going to great lengths to keep his footsteps quiet because he could tell his captor was no longer next to him.

And then there was pain. A blade cut through the skin and muscle of his thigh, making him yell out in pain. It was deep. It hurt like hell. As a human, this was the worst pain he'd ever felt.

The voice hissed in his ear threateningly, far less formal than before, "they said I had to keep you alive, but they didn't say anything about keeping you in one piece."

Lucifer bit his lip, trying to conceal the pained cries that wanted to escape him as he felt the blade twisted in the wound. His blunt fingernails dug white crescent-shaped indents into his palms, and his toes dug into his shoes. His entire body was tense with pain.

"Have any other snide commentary, smart one?" The voice jeered at him, mocking his position.

Lucifer went silent. Apparently, the pain could shut him up.

It was like the cage all over again. Unbearable pain, no control… locked up for all eternity. He felt pain rise in his chest, his breathing rapid and shallow, and not just because of the fact he was stabbed.

Suddenly, his mind couldn't clear of the unlivable horrors he endured within the cage's walls. He felt his entire body quaking with fear, and he could do nothing about it. Perhaps it's what humans called a panic attack? Maybe an anxiety attack? He didn't know, but he definitely knew he'd never felt so much fear before. Being human sucked.

His captor circled around him, no doubt with a large smirk of triumph. He'd gotten the devil to feel pain. To break down. It wasn't an easy task.

"That's what I thought," he gloated, finally pulling the blade from Lucifer's thigh, which, surprisingly, in his state, got no reaction, besides a sharp gasp. There was only so much you could do in so little time to break him like that.

* * *

"It's been two days! He wouldn't just wander off like that without a word! Can't you just accept the fact that someone was there with us, and they got past your oh-so-keen senses?! He was kidnapped, and we need to go after him before something bad happens!"

It was rare for Sam and Dean to argue like this, but Lucifer was a sensitive topic in every sense of the term. With everything that had happened to Sam, and the fight with Dean, and every threat since? It was hard for Sam or Dean to think entirely straight when the subject was the devil, himself.

"Sam, I would have seen something! He had to be playing with us! He knows where his grace is, and he doesn't give a damn about us! Especially not you!"

Sam shook his head with disapproval. He didn't need Lucifer to care about him, but he knew damn well that he did. At this point, he could tell Dean was just trying to get to him. But Sam refused to let him get that far. He brushed off the jab and moved on.

"I know you don't care about him, but I care about the fact something big could be going down, and it's all because you refuse to do anything about it!"

"We have no leads! No evidence, except for one drop of blood, which we can't even confirm for sure is his! What, do you think God, himself, is going to drop out of the sky and- and-"

There was suddenly silence. Sam was no longer looking at Dean, but rather staring at someone behind him. Or something, rather. Dean's first thought was that there was a giant rat behind him since they were in a shitty motel room. And by shitty, I mean, like, one star-shitty. But that's all that was nearby at the moment, so that's where they chose to go.

His second thought was that just to spite him, God had shown up to guide them. Chuck, actually. Had to call him Chuck.

Dean finally decided to turn around, coming face to face with a familiar entity. Chuck.

Chuck gave a little, awkward wave, his voice soft and calm as ever. "Hey, guys."

 _To be continued…_


End file.
